Bitches, I’m in Entertainment Weekly

If you have read any of my blogs, even posts sans words, you are surely well aware that I want to be a celebrity. I don’t care what for or how I do it, I just want to be famous. I’m like Taina in that show I used to watch once in a while, Taina, where she always had dreams of her being a star, one day you gonna see her name in lights. I’ve always felt like that, I want to be recognized by strangers, I want to be stalked, I want horrid articles written about me, I want trunks full of fan mail which I will always answer, I want to buy an old celebrity mansion and host fantastic post-Oscar parties, I want to be everywhere doing everything. I want to be so damn famous that my mediocre voice will be so adored that Dolly Parton will happily agree to do a duet with me on my pop/dance/autotune album. I’ll of course gush and die and probably be hospitalized when Dolly comes into the studio, but I’ll let you read about that in Star.

Aside from wanting to be famous, I’ve always felt that I am famous. Famous for what, Lord only knows, but I’ve always felt something greater in store for me, something that was calling me. Bette Davis said, “I wanted to be Somebody, and I thought I was Somebody, but I didn’t want to be the only one to know it!” That quote pierces my soul with truth. That’s how I’ve always felt. So I’m famous…I’m just waiting for the world to catch up and catapult me to stardom with all its wonders and alleged miseries (which I fervently don’t believe in.)

Now, going back a few years, 2003 maybe, I’m not particularly good at math. I was in Living Skills class in 8th grade and we had to write a letter to our future selves about what we wanted to accomplish in our lives. My hopes and aspirations have remained nearly the same, although I haven’t accomplished many of them, yet. I did go to Europe as I wanted to. Check. I haven’t been published yet, but I have written one and a half books. Half check. I wanted to be published in a magazine. Hold up, wait a second…what’s that? CHECK! Yes, yes, yes, your beloved Ben is in Entertainment Weekly. And yes, it’s just a comment and yes, it’s just a couple sentences, but I refuse to let you rain on my parade. (I’m singing it as I type, that’s just how famous I am.)

Entertainment Weekly goes out to 1,797,384 homes, not counting library copies or digital issues. Do you realize how many times my name has been printed? I’m pretty sure this is in the realms of Gaga or Madonna or Monica Lewinsky. I’m tearing up now as I think about it. Not even kidding, moisture is pooling in the corners of my eyes. It’s even more special because EW is one of my most favorite magazines, right after Martha Stewart Living. I’ll be honest with you, if my name appears on those beloved pages, I’ll go straight to the grave.

So, since I have accomplished this life goal, I’m sure that my celebrity star is quickly rising and I will soon take over Hollywood with my creativity and talent the way I have always dreamt. I mean, all the signs are pointing towards it, I was published, I’ve gained ten (10!) followers on Twitter, and I’ve been living on coffee and grapefruit for a few days. I don’t really want much more out of life.

I’ll also mention again that I’m in the same issue as George Clooney, RuPaul, and all the other celebrities I’m going to be bumping shoulders with. Anyway, I’m just exceedingly pleased with myself, as usual. Here’s my incredibly impressive mention in Entertainment Weekly.

Hold your applause, my loves. I won’t forget all you wonderful people out there in the dark, until I do, and then I’m terribly sorry, but I won’t have time for peasants like yourselves. Ciao, bitches!

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